Page 10 of Burn for the Dragon
“The coven has accepted you, Kohl. It’s time you accepted it, also.” He laid a heavy hand on Kohl’s shoulder and caught his eyes with his own. “You just might surprise yourself.”
Kohl sighed, lines of tension showing between his brows. “It’s not right, Hawke. You’re the elder now. You were the Master’s right hand for too many years to count. You’re way more prepared to take on this position than I am.”
Slashing his hand through the air, Hawke fought not to growl at his friend. “You’re wrong, and you know it. I’m not cut out to be a leader.”
“I beg to differ, Hawke.” He threw his arms out to the sides. “C’mon, man! You practically run this place.”
“Under my Master’s orders.”
Kohl rolled his eyes, then he sighed. “What are you so afraid of?”
Hawke fought his rising temper. Turning away, he went back to stargazing. “I’m not afraid of anything, Kohl. You should know that by now.”
“Hawke, you can’t let one mistake fuck up the rest of your life.”
“That one mistake was enough to make sure I don’t ‘fuck up’ a whole lot of other lives. I don’t intend to ever let it happen again.”
“By letting others take responsibility for your actions?”
This time, he did growl. But Kohl only got more in his face. “Yeah, I get it. If you’re carrying out someone else’s orders, no one can put the blame on you when it all goes to shit. Especially not yourself. Your conscience will be clear.”
“Fuck off, Kohl.” But Hawke knew somewhere deep down that he was right. He was a coward. “I led them straight into a trap.” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “I made a judgment call, and I was wrong.”
“It was a mistake. A mistake you were lucky to survive.”
“I survived because I’m a selfish bastard with a knack for self-preservation. Because I sent the others in first to make sure it was safe before I risked myself.” Shame burned through him as he turned away, refusing to see the disgust that was surely all over Kohl’s face. He’d never told anyone that part of the story before.
“I didn’t know that.”
Hawke crossed his arms over his chest to fill the sudden hollowness there. “Well, you do now.”
Kohl was silent for a moment, then his heavy palm landed on Hawke’s shoulder, much as Hawke had done to comfort him just a few minutes before. “That doesn’t mean you wouldn’t be a good leader now. We all fuck up. And we learn from it.”
Oh, he’d learned plenty that night, and he remembered each and every moment of it. How could he not? The memories were seared into his brain.
Hawke inhaled some oxygen into his lungs to clear his head and changed the subject. “What do you want me to do about the reporter, Kohl?” His tone must have reflected how absolutely finished he was with all of this talk about him being the coven leader, for Kohl didn’t argue with him anymore.
That, or his latest confession was enough to convince his longtime friend that Hawke was right to shy away from the responsibility.
“I don’t know,” Kohl responded. His brow furrowed, and he rubbed his hand over his bearded chin. “I’d like to find out more about her, and why she’s so interested in us. Why she came to us for help, of all people.” He grinned and slapped Hawke on the shoulder. “And I think you’re the perfect one to do that, since she likes you and all.”
A twinge of something raw and unfamiliar sparked within that hollow space inside of Hawke. He didn’t trust himself to speak, so with a nod, he turned on his heel and got the hell out of there.
Chapter 5
Everly felt a tap on her shoulder and looked up from her computer to see Tyson. He smiled and gave her a wink, then signed, “The boss is calling you.”
Sure enough, Mr. Malone, the editor-in-chief of the paper, was standing at the front of the room, coffee in one hand and phone in the other. And if the red blotches on his face and neck were any indication, he wasn’t happy.
Unconcerned—this show of excitement was more often than not caused by the possibility of a story and not by anyone in particular—she smiled at Ty, her closest ally at the paper, and grabbed her notebook and a pen before hustling over to her boss. She passed by row after row of empty desks on her way to his office, as most everyone else was out on some assignment or another. When she reached Mr. Malone, he threw his arms in the air, coffee sloshing onto the floor, then turned and stalked into his office as if to say, What the hell took you so long?
Everly followed, shutting the glass door behind her. “Sorry,” she told him. “I didn’t hear you.”
He had the grace to look chagrined as he took his seat behind his massive desk. “I keep forgetting about…” He drew a circle in the air around his ear with the hand still holding his phone. “You’ve acclimated so well. I just forget.”
“Um, thank you?” Sometimes, Everly wondered if her efforts to not let her disability be a disability harmed her rather than helped her. Skipping ahead to the most obvious reason she’d been called into his office, she started giving him a run down of what she’d learned so far. Which, since she wasn’t about to admit what her real mission was with this story, wasn’t much. He’d agreed to let her follow through on her suspicions with the condition that she didn’t actually talk to anyone about it. Mr. Malone thought he was doing it to keep her from making a fool of herself. She knew he didn’t really believe her. And she appreciated him trying to protect her career. Just as she was protecting him by lying to Hawke about her boss knowing what story she was really going after.
Flicking through her notes, she said, “I think I have a lead on my story. I’ve gone to The Caves twice now, that club just on the outside of town. The ownership records are kind of strange, and not just because they haven’t been kept up. Quite the opposite. They’ve been meticulously kept, and the weird thing is?—”
